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• The motto was not given in the private volume. And though some trifling share of praise,

† The Diable Boiteux of Le Sage, where Asmodeus, the derron, place

Don Cleofas on an elevated situation, and unroofs the houses for inspection. To cheer my last declining days,

1 Lo! candidates and voters lie, &c. The fourth and fifth stanzas, which To me were doubly dear;

are given here as they were printed in the Hours of Idleness, ran as follows, Whilst blessing your beloved name,

in the private volume :I'd wave at once a poet's fame,

“One on his power and place depends,
To prove a prophet here.

The other on the Lord knows what;
Each to some eloquence pretends,

Though neither will convince by that. • A bard (horresco referens) defied his reviewer to mortal combat. If

16 The first, indeed, may not demur." diis example becomes prevalent, our periodical censors must be dipped in the river Styx; for what elde can secure them from the numerous host of their $ From the soporific scene. In the private volume, From corruption's anraged assailants?

shameless scene.

Who reads false quantities in Sele,*

Oh! had they sung in notes like these, Or puzzles o'er the deep triangle ;

Inspired by stratagem or fear, Deprived of many a wholesome meal,

They might have set their hearts at ease, In barbarous Latin t doom'd to wrangle:

The devil a soul had stay'd to hear.

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'Tis morn: from these I turn my sight:

CANDOUR compels me, BECHER! to commend What scene is this which meets the eye? The verse which blends the censor with the friend. A numerous crowd, array'd in white,

Your strong, yet just, reproof extorts applause Across the green in numbers fly.

From me, the heedless and imprudent I cause.

For this wild § error which pervades my strain, Loud rings in air the chapel bell ;

I sue for pardon,-must I sue in vain ? 'Tis hush'd :-what sounds are these I hear ? The wise sometimes from Wisdom's ways depart; The organ's soft, celestial swell

Can youth then hush the dictates of the heart? Rolls deeply on the list’ning ear.

Precepts of prudence curb, but can't control,

The fierce emotions of the flowing soul. To this is join'd the sacred song,

When love's delirium haunts the glowing mind, The royal minstrel's hallow'd strain;

Limping Decorum lingers far behind: Though he who hears the music long,

Vainly the dotard mends her prudish pace, Will never wish to hear again.

Outstript and vanquish'd in the mental chase.

The young, the old, have worn the chains of love : Our choir would scarcely be excused,

Let those they ne'er confined my lay reprove : Even as a band of raw beginners;

Let those whose souls contemn the pleasing power All mercy now must be refused

Their censures on the hapless victim shower. To such a set of croaking sinners.

Oh! how I hate the nerveless, frigid song,

The ceaseless echo of the rhyming throng, If David, when his toils were ended,

Whose labor'd lines in chilling numbers flow, Had heard these blockheads sing before him, To paint a pang the author ne'er can know ! To us his psalms had ne'er descended,

The artless Helicon I boast in youth; In furious mood he would have tore 'em. My lyre, the heart; my muse, the simple truth.

Far be't from me the “ virgin's mind” to “ taint: The luckless Israelites, when taken,

Seduction's dread is here no slight restraint. By some inhuman tyrant's order,

The maid whose virgin breast is void of guile, Were asked to sing, by joy forsaken,

Whose wishes dimple in a modest smile, On Babylonian river's border.

Whose downcast eye disdains the wanton leer,

Firm in her virtue's strength, yet not severe • Sele’s publication on Greek metres displays considerable talent and inge-she whom a conscious grace shall thus refine. nuity, but, as night be expected in so difficult a work, is not remarkable for accuracy.

Will ne'er be “ tainted” by a strain of mine. In the private volume, “Sele's publication on Greek metres is not remark- But for the nymph whose premature desires able for its accuracy."

Torment the bosom with unholy fires, † The Latin of the schools is of the canine species, and not very intelligible.

In the private volume, "Every Cambridge man will assent to this. The • If I scribble longer. In the private volume, If I write much longer. Latin of the schools is almost unintelligille."

† These lines were printed in the private volume, and in the first edition I The discovery of Pythagoras, that the square of the hypothenuse is equal of Hours of Idleness, but afterwards omitted, 30 the squares of the other two sides of a right-angled triangle,

| Imprudent. In the private volume, unworthy. S' On a saint's day, the students wear surplices in chapel.

S Wid. Private volumą, sole.

No net to snare her willing heart is spread; Still were you happy in death's earthy slumber,
She would have fallen, though she ne'er had read. You rest with your clan in the caves of Braemar ;*
For me, I fain would please the chosen few,

The pibrocht resounds to the piper's loud number, Whose souls, to feeling and to nature true,

Your deeds on the echoes of dark Loch na Garr. Will spare the childish verse, and not destroy The light effusions of a heedless boy.

Years have roll'd on, Loch na Garr, since I left you, I seek not glory from the senseless crowd;

Years must elapse ere I tread you again ; Of fancied laurels I shall ne'er be proud;

Nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you, Their warmest plaudits I would scarcely prize, Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain. Their sneers or censures I alike despise.

England ! thy beauties are tame and domestic November 26, 1806. To one who has roved on the mountains afar.

Oh, for the crags that are wild and majestic!

The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr


Lachin y. Gair, or, as it is pronounced in the Erse, Loch na Garr, towers

proudly preëminent in the Northern Highlands, near Invercauld. One of our modern tourists mentions it as the highest mountain, perhaps, in Great

TO ROMANCE.I Britain. Be this as it may, it is certainly one of the most sublime and picturesque among our “Caledonian Alps." Its appearance is of a dusky

PARENT of golden dreams, Romance ! hue, but the summit is the seat of eternal snows. Near Lachin y. Gair I! spent some of the early part of my life, the recollection of which has given Auspicious queen of childish joys, birth to the following stanzas.

Who lead’st along, in airy dance,

Thy votive train of girls and boys; AWAY, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses ! At length, in spells no longer bound, In you let the minions of luxury rove;

I break the fetters of my youth; Restore me the rocks where the snow-flake reposes, No more I tread thy mystic round,

Though still they are sacred to freedom and love: / But leave thy realms for those of Truth.
Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains,

Round their white summits though elements war ;) And yet ’tis hard to quit the dreams
Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing

Which haunt the unsuspicious soul,

Where every nymph a goddess seems, I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr.

Whose eyes through rays immortal roll

While Fancy holds her boundless reign,
Ah! where my young footsteps in infancy wander'd; And all assume a varied hue;

My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid ; * When virgins seem no longer vain,
On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd, And even woman's smiles are true.

As daily I strode through the pine-covered glade :
I sought not my home till the day's dying glory And must we own thee but a name,

Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star; And from thy hall of clouds descend?
For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story,

Nor find a sylph in every dame, Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr.

A Pylades § in every friend ?

But leave at once thy realms of air “Shades of the dead ! have I not heard your voices To mingling bands of fairy elves?

Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale?” Confess that woman's false as fair, Surely the soul of the hero rejoices,

And friends have feeling for-themselves ? And rides on the wind o'er his own Highland vale. Round Loch na Garr while the stormy mist gathers,

With shame I own I've felt thy sway; Winter presides in his cold icy car:

Repentant, now thy reign is o'er:
Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers;

No more thy precepts I obey,
They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr. | No more on fancied pinions soar.

Fond fool! to love a sparkling eye,
"Ill-starr'd, I though brave, did no visions fore And think that eye to truth was dear;

To trust a passing wanton's sigh,
Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause ?"

And melt beneath a wanton's tear.
Ah! were you destined to die at Culloden,s
Victory crown'd not your fall with applause: Romance! disgusted with deceit,

Far from thy motley court I fly, • First published in Hours of Idleness.

Where Affectation holds her seat, † This word is erroneously pronounced plad; the proper pronunciation And sickly Sensibility; (according to the Scotch) is known by the orthography.

II allude here to my maternal ancestors “the Gordons," many of whom fought for the unfortunate Prince Charles, better known by the name of the * A tract of the Highlands so called. There is also a Castle of Braemar. Pretender. This branch was nearly allied by blood, as well as attachment, † The bagpipe. to the Stuarts. George, the second earl of Huntley, married the Princess | First published in the Hours of Idleness, Annabella Stuart, daughter of James the First of Scotland. By her he left It is hardly necessary to add, that Pylades was the companion of Orestes, four sons: the third, Sir William Gordon, I have the honor to claim as one of and a partner in one of those friendships which, with those of Achilles and my progenitors.

Patroclus, Nisus and Euryalus, Damon and Pythias, have been handed & Whether any perished in the battle of Culloden, I am not certain ; but, down to posterity as remarkable instances of attachments, which in all proba as many fell in the Insurrection, I have used the name of the principal action, bility never existed beyond the imagination of the poet, or the page of u pars pro toto."

historian or modern novelist.

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Whose silly tears can never flow

But not from thee, dark pile! jeparts the chief; For any pangs excepting thine;

| His feudal realm in other regions lay : Who turns aside from real wo,

In thee the wounded conscience courts relief, To steep in dew thy gaudy shrine.

Retiring from the garish blaze of day.

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Vain is each threat or supplicating prayer; ELEGY ON NEWSTEAD ABBEY.*

He drives them exiles from their blest abode, | 'To roam a dreary world in deep despair

No friend, no home, no refuge, but their God. " It is the voice of years that are gone I they roll before me with all their deeds."|-Ossian.

Hark how the hall, resounding to the strain, NEWSTEAD! fast-falling, once resplendent dome!

Shakes with the martial music's novel din ! Religion's shrine ! repentant HENRY'S I pride!

The heralds of a warrior's haughty reign, Of warriors, monks, and dames the cloister’d tomb,

High crested banners, wave thy walls within. Whose pensive shades around thy ruins glide.

Of changing sentinels the distant hum,

The mirth of feasts, the clang of burnish'd arms Hail to thy pile! more honor'd in thy fall

The braying trumpet and the hoarser drum,
Than modern mansions in their pillar'd state;

Unite in concert with increased alarms.
Proudly majestic frowns thy vaulted hall,
Scowling defiance on the blasts of fate.

An abbey once, a regal fortress || now,

Encircled by insulting rebel powers, No mail-clad serfs, obedient to their lord,

War's dread machines o’erhang thy threat'ning brow, In grim array the crimson cross || demand;

And dart destruction in sulphureous showers. Or gay assemble round the festive board, Their chief's retainers, an immortal band : Ah vain defence! the hostile traitor's siege,

Though oft repulsed by guile, o'ercomes the brave, Else might inspiring Fancy's magic eye

His thronging foes oppress the faithful liege, Retrace their progress through the lapse of time: Rebellion's reeking standards o'er him wave. Marking each ardent youth, ordain'd to die, A votive pilgrim in Judea's clime.

* As "gloaming," the Scottish word for twilight, is far more poetical, and has been recommended by many erninent literary men, particularly by

Dr. Moore in his Letters to Burns, I have ventured to use it on account of itu * As one poem on this subject is printed in the beginning, the author had, harmony. originally, no intention of inserting the following: it is now added at the t Gloaming spreads her waning shade. In the private volume, Twilight articular request of some friends. See page 413 of this edition.

winds a waning shade. "The motio was not given in the private volume.

The priory was dedicated to the Virgin. Henry 11. founded Newstead soon after the murder of Thomas à Becket. $ At the dissolution of the monasteries, Henry VIII. bestowed Newstead § This word is used by Walter Scott in his poem, "The Wild Huntsman," Abbey on Sir John Byron. ynonymous with vassal.

| Newstead sustained a considerable siege is the war between Charles I. il The red cross was the badge of the crusader.

and his parliameni.

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Not unavenged the raging baron yields ;

The regal ruler * now resumes the helm, The blood of traitors smears the purple plain : I He guides through gentle scas the prow of state Upconquer'd still, his falchion there he wields, Hope cheers, with wonted smiles, the peaceful realm, And days of glory yet for him remain.

And heals the bleeding wounds of wearied hate.

Still in that hour the warrior wish'd to strew The gloomy tenants, Newstead ! of thy cells,

Self-gather'd laurels on a self-sought grave; Howling, resign their violated nest;
But Charles' protecting genius hither flew,

Again the master on his tenure dwells,
The monarch's friend, the monarch's hope, to save. Enjoy'd, from absence, with enraptur'd zest.

Trembling, she snatch'd him * from th' unequalVassals, within thy hospitable pale,

In other fields the torrent to repel; [strife, Loudly carousing, bless their lord's return; For nobler combats, here, reserved his life, Culture again adorns the gladdening vale,

To lead the band where godlike FALKLAND † fell. And matrons, once lamenting, cease to mourn.

Froin thee, poor pile! to lawless plunder given,

While dying groans their painful requiem sound, Far different incense now ascends to heaven,

Such victims wallow on the gory ground.

A thousand songs on tuneful echo float,

Unwonted foliage mantles o'er the trees;
And hark! the horns proclaim a mellow note.

The hunters' cry hangs lengthening on the breeze.

There many a pale and ruthless robber's corse, Beneath their coursers' hoofs the valleys shake;

.Noisome and ghast, defiles thy sacred sod; What fears, what anxious hopes, attend the chase O’er mingling man, and horse commix'd with horse, The dying stag seeks refuge in the lake;

Corruption's heap, the savage spoiler's trod. Exulting shouts announce the finish'd race.

Graves, long with rank and sighing weeds o'erspread, Ah happy days! too happy to endure !

Ransack’d, resign perforce their mortal mould. ! Such sports our plain forefathers knew :
From ruffian fangs escape not e'en the dead,

No splendid vices glitter'd to allure;

Their joys were many, as their cares were few.

Hush'd is the harp, unstrung the warlike lyre,

The minstrel's palsied hand reclines in death; No more he strikes the quivering chords with fire,

e, Or sings the glories of the martial I wreath.

From these descending, sons to sires succeed;
| Time steals along, and Death uprears his dart;
Another chief impels the foaming steed,

Another crowd pursue the panting hart.

At length, the sated murderers, gorged with prey,
Retire; the clamor of the fight is o'er;

Newstead! what saddening change of scene is thine! Silence again resumes her awful sway,

Thy yawning arch betokens slow decay; And sable Horror Ý guards the massy door.

The last and youngest of a noble line

Now holds thy mouldering turrets in his sway. Here Desolation holds her dreary court; What satellites declare her dismal reign!

Deserted now, he scans thy gray worn trowers; Shrieking their dirge, ill-omen'd birds resort,

| Thy vaults, where dead of feudal ages sleep; To fit their vigils in the hoary fane.

Thy cloisters, pervious to the wintry showers ;

These, these he views, and views them but to Soon a new morn's restoring bcams dispel

weep. The clouds of anarchy from Britain's skies; The fierce usurper seeks his native hell,

Yet are his tears no emblem of regret; And Nature triumphs as the tyrant dies.

Cherish'd affection only bids them flow.

Pride, hope, and love, forbid him to forget, With storms she welcomes his expiring groans;

But warm his bosom with impassion'd glow. Whirlwinds, responsive, greet his laboring breath; Earth shudders, as her caves receive his bones, Yet he prefers thee to the gilded domes Loathing || the offering of so dark a death. Or gewgaw grottos of the vainly great;

Yet lingers' mid thy damp and mossy tombs,

Nor breathes a murmur 'gainst the will of fate. * Lurd Byron and his brother : Sir William held high command in the royal army; the former was general-in-chief in Ireland, lieutenant of the Tower, and governor to James, Duke of York, afterwards the unhappy James II.; the latter had a principal share in many actions.-Vide Clarendon, Hume, &c.

Thee to irradiate with meridian ray; † Lucius Cary, Lord Viscount Falkland, the most accomplished man of + Hours splendid as the past may still be thine, his age, was killed at the battle of Newberry, charging in the ranks of Lord And bless thy future as thy former day. Byron's regiment of cavalry. I Martial. The private volume reads laurelld. Sable Horror. In the private volume, Horror stalking.

This is an historical fact. A violent tempest occurred immediately subse • Charles Il. quent to the death or interment of Cromwell, which occasioned many disputes Hours splendid, &c. In the private volume and the first edidono between his partisans and the cavaliers : both interpreted the circumstance Home of Idleness, the stanza ended with thc following lines: into divine interposition ; but whether as approbation or condemnation, we .eave to the casuist of that age to decide. I have made such use of the occur

" Fortune may smile upon a future line, rence as suited the subject of my poem.

And Heaven restore an emer cloudless day."

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